When Kings and Queens Collide
by Decepticon-silverstreak
Summary: She was Jarl of Solitude. He was Jarl of Windhelm. There were two opposites end of the spectrum, completely different from each other. Cold, ice blue eyes met clear summer skies. A smirk slipped onto his lips, and they both knew that the challenge had begun.
1. One Fight Too Many

**Story Summary**: She was Jarl of Solitude. He was Jarl of Windhelm. There were two opposites end of the spectrum, completely different from each other. Cold, ice blue eyes met clear summer skies. A smirk slipped onto his lips, and they both knew that the challenge had begun.

**Warning**: This story will contain gore, language, death, sexual content, and many other situations some may find unsuitable to read. Posting this story on any other website without my sole permission is not allowed.

**Disclaimer**: _Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim_ is the property of Bethesda Game Studios. Other characters and plot independent of _Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim_ original creation are my property. I, Decepticon-silverstreak, in no way make any profit from this story. Do not take/use any material from this story without my express permission.

**Dedication**: To MawillaStormcloak, who helped me out with ironing the plot bunnies on this story, stuck with me, and just helping me in general with the story! Don't know what I would do without you!

_You are the hole in my head_  
_You are the space in my bed_  
_You are the silence in between what I thought_  
_And what I said_

_You are the night time fear_  
_You are the morning when it's clear_  
_When it's over you'll start_  
_You're my head_  
_You're my heart_

~No Light, No Light by Florence and the Machine

Chapter One

One Fight Too Many

Death was an old friend of Jarl Elisif. It had hovered over her since she was born. Elisif was born when the Great War was still freshly ground into everyone's mind, the Empire picking itself up from the Aldmeri Dominion, which had ruthlessly cut them down. Then, her dear mother had died giving birth to her stillborn brother. It chased her all the way up to the final days of the rebellion, when Ulfric succeeded. Elisif supposed it was going to follow her until Death spreads its dark hand over her, and take her from Nirn up to Sovngarde.

Elisif sighed as Falk and Erikur argued endlessly over menial things. The day was almost at its end, the sun setting in the west casting its reddish-orange beams over the interior of the Blue Castle as night began to start. The ache in her back was minor, but was incessantly nagging at her. Bryling must have noticed, for she walked over, her features as sharp as the steel sword that was attached to her hip. She was a fine Thane who held honor and tradition highly, but was constantly butting heads with Erikur who only wanted authority and money. Because of this, the court sometimes had to bear with their shouting matches.

"My Jarl, you must rest. Ulfric and his men won't be bothering you for some time. Skyrim needs to heal, and he acknowledges that. I will fetch a servant to make a bath for you." Bryling spoke sternly, and Elisif knew that there was no point to argue, even if she was the Jarl.

"Thank you Bryling. I will finish up here, and then retire to my chambers for the evening." She spoke softly, and the Thane nodded, her dawn brown hair twisting as she turned on the boot, and then marched her way down the hall to fetch Erdi to prepare a bath. Elisif knew she wasn't a huge help to the court, for her lack of inexperience and knowledge to lead a city. She heard what people said about her: a puppet, nothing more than a figure head for the court to control. The thought saddened her.

"Falk, I am going to retire for the night. Any questions can wait till the morn. It has been a long day." She stood up, enjoying the feeling of her protesting muscles stretch. It was the month of Morning Star; the weather was brutally cold, unforgiving to any who ventured out of the warmth of their homes. Falk nodded to her, and then turned his back to Erikur to keep arguing. Elisif allowed a small smile to seep onto her face. Some things never change. Bolgeir gave a small tilt of the head to her as Elisif passed, and she returned it as she began walking towards the direction of her room, desperate to wash away the stress from the day that had piled up.

Haafinger had many problems that demanded to be answered at once. Elisif knew she was young and not very experienced for she was only nineteen. A child most would say. General Tullius had always helped her make major choices, but he really never had time to teach her; he had a war to win. The court had also helped her out tremendously, letting her know if the decision was actually worth doing so. Elisif was learning each day how to help her people, her husband's people, and it was not easy.

Walking into the room, the large, wooden bath greeted her as Erdi was sprinkling Fire Salts into the water. Steam began to curl out of it, and she nodded to Elisif.

"Jarl Elisif, is there anything else you need?"

"No, I am fine Erdi. Thank you for the bath." Elisif sighed as she walked over to the bottles full of oils, looking for her favorite.

"I am just doing my duty, Jarl Elisif. Enjoy the rest of your night." With that she closed the wood door and left Elisif standing there. She took off her circlet, rubbing at her forehead, and then began to strip each layer of clothing she wore. She dumped them on the ground, then looked down at her left hand. The gold ring of Matrimony stared up at her. Torygg. The sharp ache in her heart burned, rage and terror flooding her mind as she thought of the man responsible for his death in the first place.

Ulfric Stormcloak.

A rotten excuse of a man, who would coldly cut down someone, someone loved and cherished for his own damn gain. She hated him. Oh how she hated him, her blood ran hot when she thought of him. Elisif would never deny that; she prayed to the Divines that he would meet true justice at the end of the headsman's axe. That he would pay for the crimes he committed against Skyrim.

But she was also terrified of him. The way he could just say an order to have someone dead, the great power he know held. That cold, calculating look in his eyes. The way he seemed to stare daggers into her soul, it truly made her want to fleer in terror like a fragile rabbit from a vicious bear.

Elisif sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. Dark circles sunk underneath her bright, blue eyes. Once beautiful, straight auburn hair had turned frizzy and dull, its shine gone. Her eyes looked bleak, glassy as if drugged or swarmed by sickness. A small sob racked through her. If Torygg saw her now, what would he say about her? Elisif still remembered his breath on her neck, a gentle hand on her cheek as her spoke softly to her.

_"My fair Elisif."_ The name initially had stuck onto her and soon the court and all of Solitude had begun calling her Elisif the Fair. It stung every time she heard someone say it, another reminder of her husband.

She slipped into the steaming water, sighing as it engulfed her body. The oils worked wonders on her tired muscles and she grabbed another bottle, and lathering her hair. The tub began to fill with more bubbles, but it was the last thing on her mind; she finally had time to relax. However, Ulfric kept bombarding his way into her mind, haunting Elisif with his image. The final day of the rebellion was playing in her head, Ulfric practically demanding her to surrender.

_A soldier cried out. "What about Jarl Elisif?" She felt the pinpricks of eyes from every direction, the Dragonborn, Ulfric, Galmar staring at her. Elisif ignored them and held her head high. The soldiers assigned to protect Elisif as the city fell under siege were cut down as they grabbed her to bring to him. A bitter taste filled her mouth._

_Ulfric turned his piercing gaze on her, a smirk slipping onto his lips._

_"Yes, what about __**Lady**__ Elisif? Will she put aside her personal hatred for me, and her misplaced love for the emperor and his coin, so that the suffering of our people will end?"_

_Elisif wanted to scream out in rage, for she never supported the Empire just because of the gold. This whole damn war would have never had happened if Ulfric wouldn't have killed Torygg; he was contemplating of separating from the Empire but Ulfric was an ambitious and impatient wanting it to be done immediately and took things in his own hands! She could feel her face burn red as Ulfric kept going._

_"Will she acknowledge that it is we Nords who will determine Skyrims's future? Will she swear fealty to me, so all may know that we are at peace, and a new day has dawned?" The courtyard went silent as they all waited for her to answer. Elisif could see the faces of every man, woman, and child she let down as the spoke the two simple words._

_"I do."_

After all, who was she to deny Ulfric Stormcloak?


	2. Sudden Arrivals

**Story Summary**: She was Jarl of Solitude. He was Jarl of Windhelm. There were two opposites end of the spectrum, completely different from each other. Cold, ice blue eyes met clear summer skies. A smirk slipped onto his lips, and they both knew that the challenge had begun.

**Warning**: This story will contain gore, language, death, sexual content, and many other situations some may find unsuitable to read. Posting this story on any other website without my sole permission is not allowed.

**Disclaimer**: _Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim_ is the property of Bethesda Game Studios. Other characters and plot independent of _Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim_ original creation are my property. I, Decepticon-silverstreak, in no way make any profit from this story. Do not take/use any material from this story without my express permission.

**Dedication**: To MawillaStormcloak, who helped me out with ironing the plot bunnies on this story, stuck with me, and just helping me in general with the story! Don't know what I would do without you!

_No light, no light in your bright blue eyes  
I never knew daylight could be so violent  
A revelation in the light of day  
You can't choose what stays and what fades away_

_And I'd do anything to make you stay_  
_No light, no light_  
_No light_  
_Tell me what you want me to say_

~No Light, No Light by Florence and the Machine

Chapter Two

Sudden Arrivals

The storm howled loudly in Ulfric's ears, the snow biting at him. Galmar was right; they should have left the day after, till the storm passed over but he wanted to hurry, and get to Solitude. The moot wanted to come together, and he didn't trust a courier to make it all the way across Skyrim.

"By Talos, Ulfric! We should have just waited out the damn storm! The damn Moot is not going anywhere!" Galmar shouted over the wind, the horses trotting their way down the road. Secunda and Masser were covered up by thick clouds unleashing snow, and it look like it wasn't going to let up anytime soon.

"We are almost there Galmar, patience." Ulfric was right. The majestic Blue Palace was placed proudly on the majestic arch, and the two men wouldn't deny that they were happy to see the city. The bitter cold had sunk down into their bones. Even though they were Nords and had a high resistance to the cold, even Skyrim's majestic nature could get to them.

However, Galmar mainly just wanted to get out of the damn _snow._

They made their way up the hill, the stone path slippery so the horses were going at a slower pace. When they finally arrived at the gate, the Solitude guard was baffled at the sight of the two covered in snow.

"Jarl Ulfric! General Galmar! Your arrival wasn't due for another three days!" He shouted out, taking the reins of the horses as the two men got off.

"I wanted to get ahead of the storm, but it seems not early enough." Ulfric said dryly, the snow around him getting thicker by the second. Galmar huffed, the guard jumping out of the general's way and almost into the horse.

"Damn right, Ulfric. Now, I am going to get myself a well deserved cup of mead." Ulfric and Galmar began walking towards the Blue Palace, for the next couple of days were going to be very eventful.

* * *

After Elisif had finished her bath, and finally made the tears stop falling down her face, she changed into a soft white nightgown that reached right above her knees. She sat down at her vanity, and began going through the things that laid there. There were colorful perfume bottles, a hand mirror from Cyrodill, necklaces and rings that glinted with beautiful jewels, an ornate hair comb her father had made her when she turned thirteen, and finally, Torygg's amulet of Talos. The strip of leather was worn out from countless times of being put on, the metal scratched and dulled from age. It had been in his family since before his father's father. Elisif didn't worship Talos, but the amulet held value to her.

Elisif sighed as she picked up the comb, and brushed it through her hair. The sun had set long ago, and night had fallen onto the land. Candles glinted, their flames dancing and turning as they burned brightly. She sometimes wished she was a flame, who only burned brightly and didn't have a care in the world. But eventually all flames burn out.

A knock on the door made her mind drift away from the melancholy thoughts.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Jarl Elisif! Jarl Ulfric and General Galmar are here! They arrived just moments ago!" Bryling's voice shouted through the door, and Elisif dropped her brushed and rushed over to the door and threw it open.

"What!?" She shouted in disbelief, her soft blue eyes wide. Bryling was about to speak when Ulfric himself appeared behind her. A knot formed in her throat.

"Yes, we arrived because we wanted to get ahead of the storm. I do apologize for any inconvenience." Ulfric spoke, his deep voice filling Elisif's head. The lighting in the hall cast a hellish look upon him, his vivid eyes practically glowing in the dark. The way he stared at her made her feel frightened, like he was peering into her very soul and she was pinned helplessly.

Elisif was about to open her mouth and shout at him, but Bryling beat her to it as she turned around, and began pushing the Stormcloak leader away. "Well, my Jarl is currently not available for any court discussions. They will have to wait until the morn." Their eyes met as Bryling shoved him away, and Elisif quickly shut the door cutting his gaze. She frowned; there was something about him she never liked.

_It's not just a trait about him; it's his whole damn personality. _She growled out in her head, and she once again walked over to her vanity and began playing with the amulet.

_So much trouble over one god. I'll never understand religion. _Elisif opened the draw, and threw it in, locking it away so she could forget it. The moons were high in the sky, and sleep began to crawl through Elisif's mind. She crawled over to the bed, slipping under the covers. She was out the second her head hit the pillow.

* * *

_"Come on Elisif! I want to see them!" Elisif laughed as Mawilla dragged her along and up the stone stairs. It was the month of Second Seed, and the air was warm with torch bugs flying about. They perched themselves at one of the walkways, the courtyard in full view. Men and woman from all over Skyrim had come, and even a couple of Thalmor had showed up. Bards were playing merry tunes, the torches lighting up the place, and the amazing aroma of food filled the air. It was King Torygg's birthday, and the city went all out to celebrate. Elisif could see servants running around doing their lords' bidding._

_"Are you sure we won't get in trouble, Mawilla?" Elisif spoke nervously and Mawilla snorted, brushing her shirt down. _

_"Don't worry. Your father is Thane of Solitude, we won't get in trouble." Elisif's hand tightened on her dress, and frowned. She never liked to use her father's status to get away with things, but she supposed this one time would work. A man in the crowd caught her attention._

_"Last time you said that, you gave me a bottle of the strongest mead ever and got me drunk. Forgive me for being wary of your intentions." Mawilla's boots squeaked as she leaned forward, then she sat on the edge next to Elisif, who was dressed in a simple green and blue dress, her hair done in a braid going down her back. Mawilla lightly shoved Elisif._

_"At least it tasted good right? That's an upside to think about. Be happy no one else saw us." Elisif rolled her eyes and focused on the crowd._

_"Mawilla, who is that?" _

_She leaned forward, squinting her eyes down at the people. "Ah, that's General Tullius." Elisif rolled her eyes, for she already knew who he was. She pointed again._

_"Not him. Him." _

_"Ah, that's Legate Adventus." _

_Elisif wanted to yank out Mawilla's light brown hair in frustration. "By the Divines, Mawilla! Him!" Elisif stretched her arm farther, towards the blonde haired man dressed in dark clothing with a thick cloak on his shoulders who held a stern gaze towards the crowd and Mawilla practically bounced with joy and her pale green eyes twinkled._

_"That's Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm! I didn't think he would show! Good eye Elisif! Isn't he handsome?" Mawilla sighed, and Elisif turned red in embarrassment._

_"Mawilla! He's old enough to be our father!" Elisif hissed at her, but Mawilla just laughed. Elisif turned her gaze away from the crowd and up to the sky. The northern lights shown beautifully down on to the merry town, dancing and changing every second. Elisif then sighed, the cool, worn stone feeling wonderful on her heated cheek._

_"You don't want to think bad about him." Mawilla teasingly sang. "You are fourteen Elisif; you just might be marrying him one day soon!" The two of then laughed and made jokes for the rest of the night, and all worries left her mind, but Ulfric stayed with her._

_Elisif didn't realize how right she was._


	3. Revenge Is Such a Sweet Ideal

**Story Summary**: She was Jarl of Solitude. He was Jarl of Windhelm. There were two opposites end of the spectrum, completely different from each other. Cold, ice blue eyes met clear summer skies. A smirk slipped onto his lips, and they both knew that the challenge had begun.

**Warning**: This story will contain gore, language, death, sexual content, and many other situations some may find unsuitable to read. Posting this story on any other website without my sole permission is not allowed.

**Disclaimer**: _Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim_ is the property of Bethesda Game Studios. Other characters and plot independent of _Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim_ original creation are my property. I, Decepticon-silverstreak, in no way make any profit from this story. Do not take/use any material from this story without my express permission.

_Holy water cannot help you now  
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out  
I don't want your money  
I don't want your crown  
See I've come to burn your kingdom down_

_Holy water cannot help you now_  
_See I've come to burn your kingdom down_  
_And no rivers and no lakes can put the fire out_  
_I'm gonna raise the stakes, I'm gonna smoke you out_

_~Seven Devils by Florence and the Machine_

Chapter Three

Revenge Is Such a Sweet Thing

Ordinary mornings in the Blue Palace always started out the same. Rise just before the morning sun, eat breakfast, and then deal with the court affairs. Bryling gives Elisif an over view for the morning and thus the day beings once again.

This was not a normal day. The snow had piled high in the streets, making it difficult for visitors to track their way up to the palace, only the truly desperate coming to the palace. Guards were currently now out and about, shoveling the snow off of the paths. Bryling had stayed the night to make sure nothing would happen with Ulfric's presence, but the other thanes had left the night before. Elisif put on an emotionless face, shoved down her feelings of sorrow and anger, and readied herself to deal with Ulfric and his men.

"What is on today's agenda Bryling." Elisif calls quietly over her shoulder, Una and Erdi readying their Jarl for the day. They dressed her in a simple gown, placing each layer on her and murmured their goodbyes when they finished. Bryling walked up behind her and grabbed the ornate comb, brushing it through her once lovely red hair.

"Quite a bit, I'm afraid. I believe with Jarl Ulfric's rude announcement, he will immediately want to start discussing what to do with the money, supplies, and most importantly the Moot. After all we have an entire country to rebuild, Jarl Elisif." Bryling then frowned as Elisif's shoulders shook slightly, as if she was crying as Bryling looked at her Jarl through the mirror meeting her gaze as the warm blue eyes glimmered with unshed tears.

She took a shuddering breathe before she spoke.

"Why do you still call him that Bryling?"

"Jarl Elisif, I do not understand. What do you mean?" Bryling ties off the braid, and gently places her hand on her shoulder. The thane does not enjoy the look in her Jarl's eyes. It's a terrible thing; Elisif's eyes are hard, showing so much yet so little. Those once kind and sweet eyes are now void, hiding behind a veil of grief.

"You call him Jarl, when in fact he is already on his way to be High King. Everyone supports him and we both know he only let me keep the throne to mock me, to play me as a puppet!" Elisif snarls softly in anger that is threatening to overflow, and she visibly deflated; placing her head into her palm.

Bryling went to open her mouth, but Elisif went even further exclaiming her anger. "What's the point Bryling? Why does he do this to me, to try to and further dig knives into everything my husband and I stood for?"

She turns and looks at the warrior, who has been a true advisor, yet even more of a sister to her since she took the throne in her husband's place.

"Do not fret, Elisif. You still have Jarl's that support you. I do not know why he is allowing you to remain as Jarl, but I will tell you this; no matter what happens during this whole political mess, I will stand by your side. _You are not alone._"

Elisif's spirit felt lighter with those words, and she watched the thane leave. She lifted the ornate dagger in her hand that laid on her dresser. She glanced at herself in the mirror and thought on those words.

She was not alone. Not at all and now, she had to gain the upper hand in this fight. The ornate dagger glistened in the sunlight, the tip glinting with promises of sweet revenge.

A small smile crawled onto her lips.

* * *

"When will Lady Elisif be down? We have many things to go over and I do not wish to keep delaying." Ulfric says from behind the desk, and Falk merely hums at the man, eyes tired.

"The court does not begin until nine and _Jarl _Elisif comes down at eight. We are not soldiers, Jarl Ulfric and do keep in mind that we are trying to repair the city after _your_ attack damaged many building and ruined many of the stocked supplies. Do forgive the delays." Falk said dryly, trying to settle to oh great one as the man looked over many documents that laid before him. He didn't like him and the feeling was _very _mutual.

"Of course, the Jarl of the house needs her sleep after all." Ulfric looked over at the man who looked very uninterested and he just brushed it off. It did not bother him that most here in Solitude did not particularly enjoy his presence. Before Falk could bother to respond, Bryling comes stomping in, blade sheathed but very much dangerous.

"Jarl is coming down, make sure the court is ready and have one of the maids clean up the mess in the side hall." Bryling gave Ulfric a look as she passed by him, and as soon as she came she was gone.

Falk sighed and walked after her.

Today was not going to be an average day in court. Not at all.


	4. Meetings

**Story Summary:** She was Jarl of Solitude. He was Jarl of Windhelm. There were two opposites end of the spectrum, completely different from each other. Cold, ice blue eyes met clear summer skies. A smirk slipped onto his lips, and they both knew that the challenge had begun.

**Warning:** This story will contain gore, language, death, sexual content, and many other situations some may find unsuitable to read. Posting this story on any other website without my sole permission is not allowed.

**Disclaimer:** Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim is the property of Bethesda Game Studios. Other characters and plot independent of Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim original creation are my property. I, Decepticon-silverstreak, in no way make any profit from this story. Do not take/use any material from this story without my express permission.

_As I move my feet towards your body_

_I can hear this beat it fills my head up_

_And gets louder and louder_

_It fills my head up and gets louder and louder_

_There's a drumming noise inside my head_

_That starts when you're around_

_I swear that you could hear it_

_It makes such an all mighty sound_

~Drumming Song by Florence and the Machine

Chapter Four

Meetings

It turns out the mess in the side hall was a smashed case of wine, and Bryling didn't want to think who, how, or why it happened to be smashed. She had bigger things to deal with. Like her Jarl's safety. Or how long it would take her to be in a screaming match with Ulfric. Erikur and Bolgeir were already betting and she couldn't help but roll her eyes.

_Honestly. Men these days._

She just hoped that they didn't end up slaughtering each other. Blood stains are very hard to remove out of rugs. Nasty things. It seemed however none of that would be needed, when Elisif calmly straightened up even more when Jarl Ulfric walked forwards.

"Jarl Elisif. May I have a word?" Bolgeir actually tried to look threating, crossing his arms over his chest. She did not move from her spot on the throne.

"Alone?" He persists.

"As you wish, Jarl Ulfric. Falk, hold any serious court matters and wait until I am finished." Bryling watches her jarl get up out of the throne, and swiftly walks past Ulfric. She assumes that they're heading to her study, and she lets herself smirk as Ulfric follows her lady.

_May the Divines watch over her._

* * *

The door shuts behind her with a solid thud, and Elisif feels her courage and fearlessness rush out with it. She turns and faces him, and she doesn't like it at all. He's wearing his custom apparel. Thick cloak draped across broad shoulders, leather vest underneath with the x fashioned buckle across the chest. There is an old, white scar on his upper left cheekbone that she doesn't remember from before.

And Ulfric is practically doing the same. Looking at her. Seeing how the young girl had grown and changed. He's disappointed with what he sees. The first thing that looks different about her is her once stunning red hair. It's lost its glossy shine, now limp and lifeless. Then there's dark bags under her eyes that she doesn't try to cover up with women's silly face powder. Her eyes though. They still remain those defiant, clear blue.

"Where is your general, Galmar?" He's surprised that that would be the first thing she would say to him. There had to be thousands of other things going on in her head that she wanted to call him, as she did the day he killed Torygg.

"Sleeping. The travel wore him out and I said he could rest."

The flicks her gaze to him, and walks over to a bookshelf, running her fingertips over the worn out spines.

"What did you wish to speak about, Jarl Ulfric?" Elisif's back is to him, and he grabs a bottle of ale, drinking a small sip, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"The Moot. I have called for it to come together and select a new High King."

Elisif gives a harsh laugh, loudly slamming the book close. Ulfric quickly reads the title. _'The Knights of the Nine'. _It was a tale about knights that were once a great part of the Empire, that came together in the Third Era. Nothing more than past history that had nothing to do with Skyrim's new future.

"Do you forget than I am still a candidate? Or did you think that everyone was simply going to vote for you and be done with it?"

"I am going by tradition, _Elisif._ I am not going to take the title of High King until the Moot has decided."Ulfric says sharply, coldly staring at the woman. He knew that she was going to be difficult to get through, considering their rather bloody past. Most of the jarls now in place were supporters of him, so the answer was pretty much clear to everyone.

"Well forgive me, _Ulfric._ Every hold in Skyrim sings songs to you in praise. Forgive me for stating the obvious. I will still run for High Queen, whether you allow me to or not."

"I never said that you weren't. I am not going to simply snatch the opportunity from your pretty little head. The Moot should be meeting soon however."

"How soon?"

"In a week, at Falkreath. Jarl Siddgeir was kind enough to host the meet and allow each jarl to stay the night."

"A week?!"

Ulfric briefly smiles as her face turns an amusing shade of red.

* * *

Elisif shouted in shock, wondering how that she had not known it was going to be this soon.

_Ulfric probably told all the others in earlier. So I would know in the latest and have no say in it. Damn that man._

"Yes in a week. All of the other jarls are preparing and have already agreed." Elisif turns to face him, and wants nothing more to scream in anger. Bryling though would probably come barging in here with Bolgeir at her side, slaying him on the spot. It created a lovely image in her mind.

"Well no need to worry about wear I am staying at. My father had built a manner in the hold, not too far from the town. I will stay there."

Ulfric immediately starts to protest against it, but she cuts him off quickly.

"Bryling and Bolgeir will be traveling with me and staying there. It's secluded and high up."

"Well then it seems our discussion is over, now that everything is settled."

"No. It's only just beginning, Jarl Ulfric."

Elisif says, trying to throw on a fearless façade she once saw Mawilla do over time and time again. She secretly enjoys the way Ulfric narrows his eyes at her because she want him to know that the tables were changing, and it was now going to be an ugly fight for the throne.

She quickly strides out of the room, her dress swishing with each step, and a frown appears on her face.

_Now to tell Bryling._


	5. Boiling Storm

**Story Summary**: She was Jarl of Solitude. He was Jarl of Windhelm. There were two opposites end of the spectrum, completely different from each other. Cold, ice blue eyes met clear summer skies. A smirk slipped onto his lips, and they both knew that the challenge had begun.

**Warning:** This story will contain gore, language, death, sexual content, and many other situations some may find unsuitable to read. Posting this story on any other website without my sole permission is not allowed.

**Disclaimer**: _Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim_ is the property of _Bethesda Game Studios_. Other characters and plot independent of _Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim_ original creation are my property. I, Decepticon-silverstreak, in no way make any profit from this story. Do not take/use any material from this story without my express permission.

_I've fallen from grace_

_Took a blow to my face_

_I've loved and I've lost_

_I've loved and I've lost_

_You left my soul bleeding in the dark_

_So you could be king_

_The words you said are still untold to me and I've_

_Lost my faith in everything_

~Explosions by Ellie Goulding

Chapter Five

Boiling Storm

"My lady; are you mad?! When I said I would stand by your side, I didn't mean this!" Bryling snaps irritated, and Elisif simply sighs, placing her hand against her temple. She's in her bedroom, the day at court finished, dinner not yet ready and Bryling was pacing back and forth irritated. Usually she would find it amusing but now she was the one at fault for it. Bryling's boots tapped loudly against the stone flood and a knock on the door had her stomping over to open it.

An exchange of a few terse words happened and Bryling shut the door quickly and walked back over.

"Dinner is ready. I assume you wish to have your meal brought up?"

"Yes, I need to finish going over the rest of these documents. Falk can only do so much."

Bryling nods, and quickly walks out to fetch the dinner and Elisif lets out the sigh that had been building up inside of her. She wants to scream from the Throat of the World in frustration, to let it all out.

_Of course Bryling wouldn't have taken that well. No one would have._

The room was growing cold, now that the fire had gone out. She stared at the ashes left behind, and the grey dust sitting there reminded her of Dunmers, with their ashen skin. Elisif stood straighter, with an idea now in her head. Elisif quickly grabbed a piece of blank paper, a quill, and fresh ink and began to write.

_Erikur,_

_Send up an estimate of how much resources, money, and men would be needed to repair Helgen. I believe, since Windhelm is overwhelmed with Dunmer, that we could rebuild it for them, and also the Argonians and Khajiit. I also wish to pass a law for Argonians and Khajiit to be able to pass into Solitude, and soon every city. It's time that we should be able to see past race and allow all to have an eligible chance in every city. After you have sent me the estimate, send a courier out to every Khajiit caravan so they know there will so be a place for them to settle when they are done trading. _

_**Do not tell Ulfric**_

_Elisif_

Satisfied with the note, Elisif lightly blew on the ink, careful not to smear it. She trusted that Erikur would be smart about this, for if there was money involved, he would keep it to himself. She folded it just in time, and sealed it when Erdi walked in with the food, and set it down on the table in front of her.

"My jarl, is there anything else you need? Oh! I must restart the fire! Forgive me, Jarl Elisif!" Erdi exclaimed, rushing over and immediately started to clean the ash pit, and Elisif allowed herself to smile. She would still never get used to how adamantly the servant went through their duties. She then quickly exited, and Elisif was left alone once again, with the strong aroma of tantalizing food.

It was a simple meal of rabbit, herbed mashed potatoes, and a sweet roll. Odar has always been a great chef. Elisif had already eaten half of the meal by the time Erdi had returned with Una in tow, firewood in their arms. Una always to proper one, curtsied at the doorway before walking in.

And as quick as they came, they left, the fire lit and it burning flames creating shadows across the walls. Elisif stood, and looked at the window, not realizing that nightfall had already come to Skyrim. She looked at the stars so far above, flowing together like some sort of beautiful, celestial cloth the Divines themselves wore. It was truly a majestic sight to be seen. Elisif remembers when she was younger how she made her father when they were at Lakeview Manor put her on his shoulders so she could try and grab the stars, and keep one for herself like one does to a torch bug. Smiling she turned away and grabbed the letter, and made her way around the room.

_Now to get the letter to Erikur. Shouldn't be too hard, going down the stairs in my own palace. _She thought to herself as she walked towards the door but she stopped before her hand touched the handle.

_But Ulfric is down there, lurking about and around. _She scolded herself for thinking like that, for it was her home, her city! She wasn't going to let that man stop her from doing her own business in the palace. Elisif marched out, letter in hand, and was almost to the side staircase, when a door that opened up beside her, and startled her out of her stride.

Elisif tilted her head back to see who it was.

_Just my horrible luck. Of course it's __**him.**_

Ulfric stood there in the doorway, and a pregnant silence filled the air between the two.

"May I help you, Jarl Ulfric?" Elisif snips at him, and she quickly puts the letter behind her when she sees his eyes spot it.

"What is in your hand?"

"A letter."

"May I see it?"

"No. It's mine, and I do not see how this needs to have your approvale." Elisif winced at how childish she sounded, and Ulfric ignored her and made a grab at the letter. Ignoring her whispered shouts, he broke the seal and quickly skimmed through the letter.

"It seems that not all your ideas are useless. To rebuild Helgen is smart, yet to give it to the dark elves, Khajiit, and Argonians is incredibly foolish. To give them a good plot of land that has useful resources-"

"If it was so useful Jarl Ulfric, you would have already sent your men with supplies to start to fix Helgen." Elisif hissed at him, her anger getting the better of her. "You are a racist man, who believes that Nords are the best and you treat anyone who isn't human like filth on the bottom of your boot. Just because you think elves are nothing but evil overlords doesn't mean you should segregate them. You wish for a better future for Skyrim, then act like it!" Elisif snarled, snatching the letter out of his hand and walked away, not caring what Ulfric thought.

_Foolish?! Who does he think he is? That man is such an annoying-_

Elisif throws herself out of her angry thoughts, and quickly walks into the court room, and looked for a guard. There were two standing off to the side, quietly speaking and they both immediately straightened up when she approached them. Elisif paid no mind how strange she looked as she pulled the guard to the side.

"Give this to thane Erikur now. Hurry and do not stop for anyone."

She didn't leave her spot until she heard the guard leave, doors slamming behind her. Elisif turned to her side, ready to go back to her room to her and in the hall was Ulfric, standing there. Cold, ice blue eyes met clear, summer skies. A smirk slipped onto his lips, and they both knew that the challenge had truly begun.


	6. Old Wounds

**Story Summary**: She was Jarl of Solitude. He was Jarl of Windhelm. There were two opposites end of the spectrum, completely different from each other. Cold, ice blue eyes met clear summer skies. A smirk slipped onto his lips, and they both knew that the challenge had begun.

**Warning**: This story will contain gore, language, death, sexual content, and many other situations some may find unsuitable to read. Posting this story on any other website without my sole permission is not allowed.

**Disclaimer**: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim is the property of Bethesda Game Studios. Other characters and plot independent of Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim original creation are my property. I, Decepticon-silverstreak, in no way make any profit from this story. Do not take/use any material from this story without my express permission. I do not own Florence and the Machine. I am only borrowing their song. I do not make any profit from it.

_And I've been a fool and I've been blind_

_I can never leave the past behind_

_I can see no way, I can see no way_

_I'm always dragging that horse around_

_All of these questions, such a mournful sound_

_Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground_

_So I like to keep my issues strong_

_But it's always darkest before the dawn_

~Shake It Out by Florence and the Machine

Chapter Six

Old Wounds

That night was a tense one. Every one now knew of the fight that had happened between their Jarl and Jarl Ulfric. Certain servants gossiped a little too loud. Bryling frowned. She tried to think of any reasonable reason why it always came to her to deal with it. Why? Why her?

_Am I the only damn person around here with a level mind? Head of palace affairs. Hmph. I'm a thane, not a damn house keeper or Falk! It's my job to help the people, not politics!_

Bryling kept her irritated thoughts brewing as she firmly, yet gently opened the door to her Jarl's chambers. The sight however made her shout in shock and she immediately rushed over to her Jarl's side, who had seemingly collapsed against the stone floor; unmoving.

_Oh dear divines! Please don't be dead! I can't take another one of you dying here. Not you Elisif!_

In her panic, she did not see the figure rustle under their cloak and stealthily fled the scene, the shadows guiding them away. Tears began pouring down her face, and she began screaming; begging almost hysterically.

"Lady Elisif! Wake up! Please! _Elisif!_"

* * *

Elisif hummed loudly in frustration. There was no other way to put it. To say anger was a bit too much, but Elisif supposed that could make do since she wanted to do nothing more _than rip his head off!_

No. Now was a time to keep calm and start making plans on how she was going to turn the ruins of Helgen into a safe hub for non-humans. The word made her heart throb. Not is a sad way; more in a way of realization or perhaps… degrading. Does Skyrim and their precious Storm cloaks truly think that Skyrim was truly only meant for the Nords. Just because the settled it long ago does not mean it was theirs.

_If you to say who it truly belonged to, it would be the Snow Elves. But they are long gone. Died off. Such a shame; they might have been able to help us improve our relationship with the Thalmor, to let them know we were not a country full of savage, short lived, Nords. I'm half Imperial and I am a civil citizen of Skyrim, and never once have been considered 'savage'._

Any free man should be able to travel to a country safely and not fear simply because of their race.

"It's been such a long time Elisif." A voice called out behind her.

Her blood ran cold.

_No. It can't be. They told me she was dead. I saw the remains buried in the Hall of the Dead. No one could have forgotten that face as they sealed her away._

"Mawilla."

* * *

Ulfric's head swiveled towards the doorway as he heard unmistakable screaming. He could make out faint words, slurred with sobs.

"_Elisif!"_

Being wiser in his aging years, he did not simply leap up and rush into battle. No he had done that one too many times in the Imperial Army and it landed him in that Thalmor bitch's hands. He grabbed his war axe, and alerted the guard who had not run up the stairs yet.

"Check all entrances; see if anyone tried to make a break in and escaped."

"Yes Jarl Ulfric!" With that the guard was gone and he was quickly making his way up the stairs; closer to the sobbing. With all the guards blocking the way, he quickly marched his way through and was presented with a shocking scene that shook him, sending invisible chills through him.

It wasn't one of those simple shivers you get when the cold gets a little too close to you. _No_, it was one of those that pierced the soul; made it feel like your insides were numb yet coursing in fear.

"What happened!?" He barked quickly none one seemed to answer him. "If no one can answer me then find an answer! Sweep the entire palace! I want everything thoroughly searched and I then need a perimeter sweep of the outside area. Do not alert anyone outside of the palace. Understood!" Ulfric watched as everyone moved in action, even the usually stone cold Bolgeir.

And for a second time in his tired life, he didn't know what to do.

* * *

Elisif didn't turn in her seat, and she felt her come closer, placing her hands on her shoulders and Elisif was terrified.

"What do you want?"

She shuddered as she heard her once friend voice chuckle softly in her ear, running a leather clothed hand down the side of her face. Was this a ghost, to come back from the darkest depths of her mind, another skeleton to come walk the ground above?

"Now, now. You shouldn't treat a friend like that. After all, I taught you everything. How sit there properly, to give a smile that reached your eyes, to lie." Those last two words were hissed in her ear and Elisif jumped, her throat dry and cracking.

"You're dead."

_You have to be dead._

"Then am I a ghost Elli? Do you not feel the touch of my hand, the warmth of my flesh?" She winces as the hands dig into her cheek, leaving red marks. This was not the woman who she remembered. No. Not at all.

"How are you alive?"

A dark chuckle was her answer.

"You see Elisif, I've been searching and I finally figured out what I need to do. Look." Elisif forces herself to look at the woman beside her, and she widens her eyes when the woman starts taking her cloak and shirt off.

"What are you doing?"

"Please, Elisif. We grew up together. A little nudity isn't a problem. But look what you and your great Empire did to me." She fully looks at her and holds a gasp in her throat.

Scars.

They were everywhere on her skin. Embedded like beads on a piece of cloth.

"Horrid aren't they. You see this is what happens when your legion leaves you behind in the middle of a battle simply because you are paralyzed, useless, and unable to fight. _They left me._ And because of that a psychotic group of Forsworn took me and did this. But that's not even the best part. Look."

On Mawilla's tan back is a strange tree that looks incomplete. Certain parts have leaves on the branches, while there are only two thin roots. It's strange. Elisif couldn't recall anywhere that the Forsworn would do this.

"The leaves each represent a life a taken. However they are unimportant lives, like leaves. Each leaf on a tree grows green and strong and then withers and dies in the span of a year. But the roots represent someone who has impacted my life. Changed it. Roots are the foundation and without them the tree collapses and falls over. Why the first root belonged to a Briar Heart named Alar. Who whipped me and raped me until I was nothing but an unmoving sack of flesh, left to rot in a puddle of blood. The second? My Legion commander Captain Velan. You should have heard his screams went I appeared in his tent. Started praying to the Divines to save him from a ghost."

_She really has changed. _Elisif thought bleakly, seeing how many people that her once friend has killed. Something inside of her snapped as Mawilla pulled the shirt back over the retched marking on her back.

"Leave! Now! Before I call the guards. I want nothing to do with you. This is your last chance to escape."

A solid slap against her face was an answer.

"Evil is coming Elisif, and you better be prepared. This civil war won't be the end. It'll come like a never ending rain of fire, and when you are surrounded by the ashes of you city, you'll know why."

_What evil?! What's she talking about?! Someone help me!_

The last thing she knows is Mawilla's grim faced hellishly shadowed by the fireplace, teeth glinting like a mad wolf and it all fades into nothing when a sharp pain is followed by a wave of agony that flows through her.


End file.
